In Memorium
by Toadflame
Summary: In 1982, two children disappeared from the wizarding world without a trace. Nine years later, it's time for the two to return to their world with a little help from a certain Potions Master and a few gifts they've picked up along the way.
1. Prologue

**Tried to use Brit-isms as much as I could, but I apologize if I don't get everything. In later chapters, I'll be using Americanisms, with the Brit-isms reserved for British characters.**

* * *

><p><span>Prologue<span>

_Unknown Location_

_March ?, 1981_

"_Please, Severus, you have to take care of my son."_

_He looked at the small black-haired boy in Lily's arms. The boy yawned, and his eyes opened a crack. Green. Just like his mother's._

"_What is wrong with Black? Or are you regretting your choice?"_

_She sighed. "If something happens to James and me, he's likely to be brash. And you know why Remus can't, especially if he's the spy. But you have the means of protecting him…"_

"_Lily, a Death Eater, even a repent one who is masquerading as a loyal one, is a risk to your son, if what you say is true. It is even more so when said repent Death Eater is a spy within the Dark Lord's ranks."_

"_Sev, I don't care if you have to flee the country! I want you to take care of my son to the best extent you can."_

"_I will try, Lily. That is all I can promise."_

"_That is all I ask." She smiled, the gesture seemingly sad. "That's all I ask."_

O-o-O-o-O

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

_July 31, 1982_

Silently, Severus Snape walked up the street to one Number 4, Privet Drive. From Albus, he had gotten a simple _'The boy is safe, Severus, no need to be concerned.'_ From Minerva…

She'd given him the address and everything she could remember from watching the Muggles that lived there.

He didn't really need it; not when he clearly remembered what Petunia was like in her youth. It sounded as if she hadn't changed a bit, and her husband wasn't much different.

As he approached the door, he could see the lights on behind the curtains. Sounds emanated from within.

"No good freak!"

Even over the din raised by what must be Petunia's husband, the cries of a toddler rose higher and louder, and Severus could barely hear Petunia's voice saying, "Don't cry, sweetums, Mummy's here. Here's the toy back, see? That nasty boy doesn't have it anymore."

_There's my answer on how he's being treated_, Severus reflected as he reached for his wand. _The boy may look like his father, but no child deserves a life like that._

He cast _Alohomora_ quietly, the click of the lock silent compared to the noise within. He opened the door, slipping inside with no one seeming to notice.

In the living room, a walrus-like man who could only be Vernon Dursley played with what looked like a pink beach ball, but upon second glance turned out to be a very blond, very round boy. Petunia was holding out a toy to her son, but the boy only batted it away and wailed louder. Her eyes looked up, and froze as she saw him.

Severus inclined an eyebrow, and he felt it inch higher as Vernon looked at him. The man swelled, turning puce.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" he shouted, shaking a fist at the black-clad figure.

"I am here to retrieve Harry Potter," Severus said, voice low and very nearly a growl.

"Take him, the little freak," Vernon muttered, glaring angrily at him. "Taking food out of Dudley's mouth, he is."

Severus' eyes flicked to the boy on the ground. "It would seem he does not need the help," he said. "Where is Potter?"

"Under the stairs," the blond man said, gesturing. "Only place he'll shut up for more than a minute."

"Indeed," Severus said blandly, but he could feel his anger rising. He turned to the stairs, noting the door with the lock. A simple charm had the door swinging open.

Within, a small boy sat sniffling on a cot mattress. He was skinny, not enough to be dangerous, but much more than a two-year-old should have been. He was naked save a nappy, which, at the very least, seemed recently clean. Green eyes stared at him.

"Da'ee?"

"No, I am not your father," Severus said, picking the boy up.

"Pa'foo'?"

Severus vaguely recalled the nickname of 'Padfoot' belonging to Black. "No, I am not him. I am Severus."

"Sev'us?"

"Close enough." A quick examination of the toddler revealed no injuries, for which he was glad. "We are leaving."

"Sev'us?"

Pausing in the doorway, Severus looked at the child. "Yes?"

"P'ongs."

The boy squirmed, and Severus allowed him to get down. He toddled over to the cupboard, pulling out a stuffed stag.

"Ah," Severus murmured. "A toy."

Someone gasped; a quick turn revealed it to be Petunia. "But we…I mean…"

"You never purchased him a plaything, I take it?" Severus asked, picking Harry back up. The boy protested, but he paid him no mind. "If I am correct, Lily has more than likely charmed the toy to come to him when he wants it, as many parents are apt to do for their children."

"Now see here-" Vernon began, but Severus was already out the door. He found a nearby alley and Disapparated with a resounding _crack_.

O-o-O-o-O

_Batcave, Gotham City_

_July 31, 1982_

With a slight thump, Severus and Harry landed in what looked like a high-tech computer lab, the ruler portkey in hand. A man wearing a dark cape with the hood resting on his back turned in his seat.

"Severus Snape."

"Bruce Wayne," Severus acknowledged, setting Harry and the ruler down on a nearby medical table. The boy immediately looked around, sleep heavy in his eyes. "I am in need of some assistance. Do you have a bandage that will mimic the color of someone's skin?"

"Can I ask why you need it first?" Bruce asked, looking at the child. His eyes narrowed. "Severus, you didn't kidnap him, did you?"

"Only in the interest of saving his life," Severus growled. He lifted the boy's fringe. "His Muggle relatives were not treating him the least of what they could give him, let alone what he deserves."

Bruce grunted. "What do you plan to do with him?" he asked as he applied a bandage to Harry's forehead. It looked white for a moment, settling to fade to the skin tone around the scar. A very fine edge, which could barely be seen when you were looking for it, was the only indicator something was there.

"I have a distant cousin, Mary Grayson. She and her husband John have been trying to have a child. They will care for him, and a glamour to his eyes, coupled with his current memories put into a Memory Sphere, will have no one the wiser."

Bruce nodded. "I assume you will need a birth certificate as well as registration in the social security?"

"If you would."

Bruce turned to the computer, already typing. "You may want to take Harry upstairs; Alfred is in the kitchen making applesauce, and he would surely appreciate a taste-tester or two."

Severus didn't reply.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_It happened so many centuries ago that no one really remembered what happened._

_The one side said it started when the other family turned away from the beliefs most held dear; the other said it was purely bigotry on the part of the other._

_No matter why or how it happened, the Malfoy family and the Weasley family had been feuding for centuries, and that was all anyone knew._

O-o-O-o-O

_Keystone City, Kansas_

_July 31, 1982_

Approximately 1300 miles away from where Severus Snape currently held Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy was quietly setting a small redheaded boy down. A glamour applied to the boy's eyes had them away from brown to a dark green. The child himself was sleeping, a side effect of having his memories semi-permanently removed. The sphere containing them was pocketed, and Lucius smirked.

There was no better way to get revenge against Arthur Weasley than separating his family.

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><p><strong>Good? Bad? Scrap it and move on with life? Keep going? I'm not sure.<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**I can honestly say I'm humbled by the response for this! As I post, I'm up to 4 C2's, which is the most I've gotten for any story. Thank you guys so much!**

**Oh, and there's a little blurb in here about something that happened nine years ago (aka when Harry and Ron were sent to America) that didn't get included in the last chapter (it probably should have been), but I thought it might make more sense to be in here (probably not). Let me know, and I'll either keep it or fix it so it's in the prologue.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

_Hogwarts, Scotland_

_Unknown date, 1982_

_In the book kept in the Headmaster's office, which held the names of wizarding children that would receive letters from Hogwarts, two names shimmered out of existence. In their places, in a smooth black ink, read two new names._

_Richard John Grayson._

_Wallace Rudolph West._

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Hogwarts, Scotland_

_July 31, 1991_

"Albus!" Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall said as she hurried into the man's office. "Harry Potter's name is no longer on the list!"

"Hmm?" Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hummed as he looked up at the Transfiguration teacher. "Ah, Minerva, would you care for a lemon drop?"

"No, I would not like a lemon drop." If anything, McGonagall's lips disappeared even further than they had been previously. "Harry Potter's name is not on the register for this year. Neither is Ronald Weasley's."

A frown marred the man's face. "That is a predicament. Are there any names that are, for lack of a better word, odd?"

She scanned the book with the year's new first years. "None that I am able to find, Albus. Well, other than the fact that one name is out of order. A Richard Grayson."

"Perhaps he was simply added where there was space?" Dumbledore's frown did not lift. "I shall pay a visit to the Dursleys this evening, in an hour so they might finish their dinner, and see what has happened to young Mr. Potter."

"Please do," McGonagall said, opening the door to the office. Before she stepped out, however, she turned and looked at the still-seated man. "Now that I think of it, no one has checked on that boy since Severus asked nine years ago, have they?"

Dumbledore's face turned even graver than before. "No."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Wayne Manor, Gotham City_

_July 31, 1991_

On the other side of the world, Richard 'Dick' Grayson had yet to hear his alarm go off before a weight was settling itself onto his chest.

"Oomph," he groaned, pushing feebly at the mass on his chest. "Wally, get off."

Wally West grinned and shook his head. "Nuh uh, shorty. It's your birthday! Gotta get the birthday boy up and about!"

Dick moaned, trying to twist and get his chest out from under his now former best friend. "Dude, it's Saturday at 6:30 in the _morning_. What's in you this morning, pure caffeine?"

"Well, Uncle Barry _did_ make a pot of coffee this morning…"

"Yeah, well, I know how Barry gets when _he_ has caffeine." Finally, Dick managed to get the hyperactive redhead off his chest. "Why are you here?"

"Well, it's your birthday…"

"No, I mean why are you here at six-thirty in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep," Wally admitted, sitting on the side of the bed (thankfully not on Dick). "Pretty gruesome murder in Central last night."

"Welcome to my world," Dick teased, pulling a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser. "Murders all night long in Gotham!"

"Haha," Wally muttered at the closed bathroom door. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you say that."

"Aw, is someone losing his murder-ginity?" the black-haired boy asked, emerging from the bathroom a few seconds later.

"Murder-ginity?"

"Yeah, you know, like losing your virginity, but murder instead of sex?" Dick shot Wally a roguish grin.

"Don't you go to some fancy private school or something?" Wally asked. "How do you even know this?"

"How do you not know this?"

Wally rolled his eyes as Dick did a handstand on the rail. "Don't fall or anything, 'cause I'm not scraping you off the ground."

"I haven't fallen since I was three, I'll have you know," Dick said, sniffing. "Do I smell chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Race ya and see," Wally said, shooting down the stairs. Dick's laugh echoed behind, and he glanced back to see the now-eleven-year-old sliding down the banister in his sock feet, shoes held loosely in one hand.

"Master Richard, might one ask what you are doing?"

Wally skidded to a halt next to Alfred, and watched as Dick tossed his shoes to the foot of the stairs and used the end to flip himself into the air and land soundly on his feet.

"What's it look like, Alfred?" Dick asked cheekily, grinning at the butler.

"Should you fall, no one will be here to enjoy the pancakes that were made this morning."

"Hey!" Wally said, pouting, and Dick laughed.

"Don't worry, Alfred, if I fall, I know how to land safely." He sent a pointed look at Wally. "Unlike some people."

"Dude! That was one time!"

"It's practically every day!"

"If you're both quite finished?" a voice broke in, and they turned to see Dick's guardian, Bruce Wayne, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "Alfred's made pancakes, and I, for one, am not ready to let them go to waste." The stern man winked at them, and Wally's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

Dick snickered.

O-o-O-o-O

_Bruce seems edgy this morning_, Dick thought, glancing once more at his guardian. The man had almost immediately opened the kitchen windows, as if waiting for a nonexistent breeze to float in. It was the end of July, and the air was hot and still, even this far outside Gotham City. He also kept glancing out said windows and at the French doors, and Dick was beginning to worry. What was happening?

And then, it did. Suddenly, an owl swooped into the kitchen, followed closely by a second. The first came to Dick.

The second went to Wally.

"What's this?" Dick asked, watching the letter drop next to his plate and the owl fly back out the open window. "That was weird." He looked at the address, written in a shimmering green ink.

_Mr. R. Grayson_

_The First Bedroom of the West Wing_

_Wayne Manor_

_Gotham City, Connecticut, USA_

"You're telling me," Wally muttered, holding up his own letter. His own was addressed to his usual room when he spent the night. "This whole thing is weird, especially the whole bedroom thing. You don't think…?"

"Bruce?" Dick turned slowly to the billionaire. "What's going on?"

Bruce looked tense. "Open it and read it," he murmured, looking at Wally. "Both of you."

The boys looked at each other, and ripped the letters open in tandem. The seal - which had a large H with a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle on the four corners - was hard to break, but Dick's envelope was soon opened and he scanned it quickly.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Grayson,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. Due to your circumstances, a professor will be arriving to escort you to Diagon Alley to retrieve your school supplies. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"I…what? What circumstances? Bruce?" Dick looked between Alfred and his guardian. "What's going on?"

"Dick…" Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "It's rather complicated.

"So start at the beginning."

"Beginning, right." Blue eyes met blue. "Nine years ago, one of my British contacts brought a child to me. He needed help hiding him and who he was."

Dick narrowed his eyes at Bruce. He knew when the man was beating around the bush. "Why do I get the feeling you're talking about me?"

"I am. Dick, you remember when I took you in, when your parents died?"

He did, with a pang in his chest. "Vividly."

"That man who was here was Severus Snape, my British contact in the magical world. He was here to help you calm down and get better when your adoptive parents died."

Dick felt his breath catch in his chest. "Bruce, if this is a joke-"

"It's not. Your birth parents lived in England and died when you were a year old. Dick Grayson…was the name that John and Mary Grayson gave you. You were born Harry James Potter." He nodded at the sheet in Dick's hand "That letter isn't a hoax. It's real. You're a wizard." He looked at Wally again. "Both of you are."

It was Wally who let out the first laugh. "No offense, Mr. Wayne, but, really, are you sure? Magic doesn't exist. It's all hocus-pocus hand-waving. This has got to be a joke."

"I don't joke, not about the truth." Bruce's face hardened. "I don't know why your letter didn't come earlier, it usually comes on your eleventh birthday."

"Which was months ago, back in May."

"Exactly." Bruce looked grim. "Hogwarts is also located in England, somewhere. I don't know the exact location. Dick got a letter because he is originally from England, and most magic schools try to get those born in their jurisdiction. Did your parents ever move, or mention moving?"

"No, but I can run and ask if you want me to." Bruce nodded, and Wally was out of the kitchen - and Gotham - in a flash.

Dick pushed away his plate, suddenly no longer hungry. "Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"When…how did my parents - my birth parents - die?"

"They were murdered by a man who calls himself Lord Voldemort on Halloween 1981." Bruce's face was grave, graver than even Batman had been at his darkest. "You have a scar, right about here-" He reached out a hand and traced a lightning bolt over Dick's right eye- "where the worst curse in existence hit you."

"What curse?" Dick asked, feeling a lump in his throat when he tried to speak.

"The Killing Curse. Severus told me you are the only known survivor, and that in the Wizarding world, you're famous."

"Even more than Robin?" he asked, grinning in spite of himself.

"I don't think _anybody_ can be more famous than Robin. You'll probably be more famous than Dick Grayson, at any rate."

Dick looked across the table. "So, am I still Dick Grayson, or am I Harry Potter?"

"You are both, Master Richard," Alfred broke in firmly. "It does not matter that your name was changed. You have gone by 'Richard Grayson' as long as you can remember - you are still he, and Harry Potter is you. It would not make sense to change your name now."

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said, managing a slight grin in the Englishman's direction.

Wally blazed back into the kitchen, hardly having broken a sweat after running to Nebraska and back. "Mom and Dad said they never lived in England, but they _did_ say that I was actually adopted." He looked pained. "Apparently, I just showed up one morning, and whatever accent I had when I was little blurred out by the time I was five."

"Hmm." Bruce looked at the preteen curiously. "Odd…"

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

* * *

><p><strong>This was <strong>_**originally**_** going to be longer, but I didn't really want to post a mega-huge chapter, then have a bunch of shorter chapters.**

**All right, I'm going to field my biggest question first: Why did Wally's letter come on Dick's birthday?**

**It's because of the circumstances surrounding his 'delivery' to the West family. He was dropped off on their doorstep on Dick's birthday, which could count as a birthday. That's my story an' I'm stickin' to it!**

**Does anyone have House suggestions for Wally and Dick? I have a myriad of reasons for them to go in pretty much any House except Hufflepuff, and could use some opinions. Should they go together or be separated?**


	3. Chapter 2

**Prologue and Chapter 1 are now edited with dates and a couple minor changes.**

**Thanks again for all the reviews, guys! You always bring my attention to the details I end up adding but never resolve/resolve a little late, so thanks much for pointing them out!**

**There's a couple review replies below - I don't usually do that, not even for anonymous reviews, but these two needed addressing.**

**Also, I had a lot of people ask why not Hufflepuff? This is what my take on it is, and whether you agree or not, that's just how I see it.**

**The only reason I'm staying away from Hufflepuff is because they're both too dark to really be in that house. I mean, yeah, they're both hard-working and trustworthy (they know most of the JL's secret ID's), but they **_**are**_** superheroes and have seen too much to really be in Hufflepuff. 'Puffs, it seems, are more likely to be a little more happy-go-lucky, and Dick's been in Gotham and seen a whole bunch of murders, especially is his parents at age 8/9 (and at age 1, in this story), and Wally's the same way. He's not as much as Dick, but it's really similar to him. They just don't really fit what I see a Hufflepuff as being: light, happy, trusting **_**and**_** trustworthy, loyal, hardworking, etc. Personally, Dick and Wally aren't the stereotypical 'Slytherin' dark, but they're not the stereotypical 'Hufflepuff' light and happy. And, as someone else pointed out, Wally was abused by his dad and Dick saw murders before his eyes, which kinda puts a damper on a lot of the 'trusting' attribute.**

**So, that's really the only reason why. If you don't agree, that's fine. I'm not forcing my views on people, just explaining my side.**

**Enjoy chapter 2!**

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

_Wayne Manor, Gotham City_

_July 31, 1991_

The knock came not from the main doors (which Dick knew couldn't be heard anyway), nor did they come from the French doors (which they would have seen). It came, instead, from what seemed to be the door from the hall leading to the kitchen.

"It would seem your visitor is here, Master Bruce," Alfred said, standing to go open the door.

"So it would seem," Bruce murmured, looking at the two boys sitting at the table. "Dick, Wally, we're about to have a guest. Could you…"

"'Course," Dick said, helping Wally remove the used dishes to the counter. "Here fine?"

"As long as there's room on the table."

"Master Bruce, it is a Professor Severus Snape, here to see you regarding the letters of this morning."

"Let him in, Alfred."

Dick turned to see a tall, hawk-nosed man enter the room. "Bruce."

"Severus." The two shook hands. "My ward, Dick Grayson, and his best friend Wally West. Boys, this is Severus Snape. He teaches potions at Hogwarts."

"Indeed." Dick shivered; the black eyes were fathomless and seemed to go straight through his soul. "Is it wise to let the redhead know of magic?"

Bruce held up an envelope, one that Dick recognized to have been sent to Wally since it was ripped down the side and not across the top, and Snape's eyebrow inched to his hairline.

"It would seem we have two wayward Englishmen in our midst," was the only thing he said on the subject. "I presume you have told him?"

Bruce nodded. "Most of it, anyway. It might be better if he had his memories, but I've done the best I can. He has a general gist, but not much else."

"What do you mean, _if I had my memories_?" Dick was completely confused. "I know exactly who I am!"

"You know who you are from your second birthday onwards," Snape sneered. Dick decided that no, he didn't really like this guy. "I, however, have your memories up to the evening of your second birthday, from 1980 to 1982."

Dick glared at the little glass ball he held in his hand; the inside was a swirling silvery-blue, and there was a place for a string or chain to be attached on the side. "What is that?"

"It is called a Memory Sphere; it is what currently is containing your memories." He laid it flat on his palm and stretched his arm out to Dick.

Picking it up, he could see his reflection in the small sphere. It was about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, the size of a shooter marble, while the inside, if it would still, could almost look like a cat's eye marble.

"I presume that you would like your memories back?" Snape asked, a slight sneer on his face. Dick could feel Wally vibrating in his attempt to not say anything, and he mentally complimented his friend on his control.

"No, thank you. At least not yet." Dick slipped the chain he wore around his neck off and added the sphere to it; it clinked lightly as it hit his mother's wedding ring. "I'll keep it here for now."

"Polite." Snape turned to Wally. "Redhead. Weasley?"

"Who?" Dick looked back at Wally. The green-eyed teen was shaking his head. "Nope, sorry, Wally West, at your service."

"You could easily pass as a Weasley, with the freckles and red hair." Snape 'hmm'ed quietly. "Interesting. Now, as I assume you've explained most of it, we should get going."

"Wally, go get your uncle," Bruce said quietly. "You'll need your guardian for this."

Wally's eyes flickered between Snape and Bruce hesitantly before he dashed off again.

Snape betrayed no flicker of surprise, but he did raise his eyebrow again and ask, "When did this occur?"

"Somewhere around his tenth birthday. Broke into Central City labs and recreated the experiment his uncle did."

"Indeed." Dick squirmed uncomfortably in the silence until Wally's echoing crash announced his return.

Flipping over the table as both sides were occupied, Dick followed the raucous laughter into the hall, where he saw a blond man almost falling over as he laughed at his nephew.

"Uncle Bar-_ry_!" Wally moaned. "You're so embarrassing."

"Trust me, kid, you don't need the help!" Barry Allen, resident Flash, choked out, finally falling and holding his sides. "Man, my ribs!"

"Acrobatics, Messrs. Grayson and West?" Snape's dry tone had Wally blushing as scarlet as his hair.

"Since I was…well, two, I guess," Dick muttered, holding a hand out to his best friend.

"I knew Mary and John would have you doing that." It was barely audible, but to Bat-trained ears, it was loud enough.

"You knew my parents? Well, my adoptive parents, I mean. Dork," he added, shoving at Wally, who stuck his tongue out at Dick and moved in for round two of trying to give the black-haired boy a noogie. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick could see Bruce quietly talking to Barry, probably explaining things.

"I knew your birth parents and your adoptive parents; it was I, in fact, who took you to the parents you more easily call mother and father. Mary Grayson was a distant cousin of mine, and Lily, your mother, was my best friend at Hogwarts until our fifth year." A ghost of a smile actually lit the professor's face. "I never did understand why Mary insisted on those acrobatic tendencies of hers, and it seems she has forced it upon you."

"Didn't really force much. Dude, would you just quit it?" Dick rounded on Wally, who was faking innocence. "Seriously. And I thought _you_ were the older one!"

"Who wants to be old?"

"Boys." Bruce's tone was not in the mood for games; it was almost Batman's voice. "How are we getting to…Diagon Alley, is it?"

"I have been granted permission to set up three international Portkeys; one there, one back, and one to take myself and the Portkey back to our Ministry."

Finally, whatever Wally had been holding in burst out. "Dude, no offense or anything, but magic doesn't exist! It wasn't _magic_ that gave me superspeed, it wasn't _magic_ that made the Batcave, which you obviously know about, and it wasn't _magic_ that brought you here! Everything can be explained!"

"No?" The glint in Snape's eye was almost malevolent, and Dick suppressed a shiver. The dark-haired man pulled a slim piece of wood from within the clothes he wore and pointed it at the table; it rose into the air, hovered, and was gently set back down. Dick knew immediately it had to be a wand of some sort.

"Strings," Wally yawned. "Oldest trick in the book."

Snape actually looked faintly irked for a moment. He pointed the wand at nothing in particular and made a few birds twitter into existence.

"Hologram projector."

"Why must you be so insolent? Can you not just accept the fact that magic exists and is why I am here?"

Wally shook his head, and Dick groaned. Obviously now _would_ be the time that Wally's redheaded stubbornness showed itself. "Dude, give it a rest. Zatanna and Zatara do magic all the time."

Wally glowered at the other teen. "They do NOT use magic! They-"

"We do not have time for convoluted theories on magic. The Portkey will be leaving in just ten seconds. I suggest everyone take hold of the rope."

"Kid!" Barry barked. "That means you!"

"Oh!" Wally grabbed the end just as a tug jerked behind Dick's navel and they disappeared.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Diagon Alley, London_

_July 31, 1991_

"How was that for magic, Wally?" Dick asked, rounding on the older boy as soon as they landed (well, Bruce and Snape landed. Barry, Dick, and Wally all fell).

"Zeta tubes, Dick." Wally looked smug. "Everything can be explained _without_ using the magic excuse."

"Can't you just turn him into a mouse or something, Professor?"

Two wand movements and incantations later, Wally was looking somewhat sheepish. "That, I can't explain. Unless it was some sort of-"

"Wally, give it a rest, huh, kid?" Barry said, rubbing a hand over Wally's somewhat scruffy hair. "You don't have to explain _everything_ with science. How does science explain that mix of chemicals that did you-know-what?"

Wally opened his mouth to say something (no doubt to explain just _why_ that happened), but a glare from Snape and Bruce's Batman face (Dick shivered; they were, no doubt, the two most alike people in the world) had his mouth closed.

"Gringotts first," Snape muttered. "Then Madam Malkin's."

"Gringotts?" Dick asked, craning his head to look in all directions at once. He caught Wally doing the same and grinned.

"The bank. It is run by goblins, and believe me when I warn you they are not ones you should try to double-cross. They even warn you when you walk in."

"Wha-oh." It didn't take long to walk up the street, and Dick could see the inscription on the doors of the marble building.

"Indeed. Bruce, it may be time to…"

"Of course." Bruce knelt down to get a better look. "This might sting a little, Dick, but no worse than a band aid."

Dick glanced around, keeping his head still as his guardian's fingertips felt across his forehead. They were in a small alcove, and people and shorter creatures that had to be goblins alike walked back and forth without a glance. There was a brief tugging feeling before Bruce stood and shoved what looked like a skin plaster (one they used when Dick wanted to hide a particularly serious injury that came from his life as Robin) into his pocket. He ran a hand over his forehead, feeling the raised skin of a scar.

"Dude, that's an awesome-looking scar," Wally whispered as the group approached a line near a teller.

"I didn't know I had it until this morning," Dick whispered back.

Ahead, he could hear Snape explaining a few things to an obviously curious Barry. "There is a fund for Muggleborn students, 200 Galleons a year, to help them pay for schooling. Of course, that covers the bare basics of the list, as we have discovered, so I would suggest getting another 50 or 100 Galleons to cover the rest. Mr. Grayson already has a trust vault from his parents, hence the revealing of his scar as it is quite distinctive. He will come into the rest of his inheritance once he reaches 17, the equivalent of becoming 18 in the Muggle world. And always remember, twenty-nine Knuts are to one Sickle, and seventeen Sickles makes a Galleon."

"That all sounds confusing," Wally muttered; he had heard it as well.

"I have a trust vault? What does that mean?"

"S'pose we'll find out," Wally said, nodding. The last person moved from ahead of them, and they were next.

"Ah, Professor," the goblin at the counter said; he gave a large almost-grin, showing many of his pointed teeth. "What might Gringotts be helping you with this evening?"

"Two new Hogwarts students. We will be going down to Mr. Potter's trust vault and we would also like to set up a withdrawal pouch for a Muggleborn."

The goblin handed over a pouch that contained the Hogwarts crest on it, and then the goblin's eyes flickered over Dick's face, lingering slightly on his scar. "Does Mr. Potter have his key?"

"I do," Snape said, handing over a small gold key.

"Everything seems in order," the goblin said, handing the key back. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well. Griphook!"

Yet another goblin came out. Snape silently handed him the key, and Griphook nodded. "This way, please."

The ride in the cart was wild, and vaguely reminded Dick of the Batmobile. They stopped abruptly, and Dick snickered as Wally was almost bounced out of his seat.

"Not cool, dude," Wally groaned. "That was one cart ride I could do without."

"Cheer up, kid, you should be used to speed," Barry said, clapping the redhead on the back as Griphook opened the vault. Dick's eyes widened.

Mounds of gold, bronze, and silver coins lay inside. In the back, he could see a couple leather-bound books that could have been journals or something similar.

"This is all mine?" he whispered. "That's way more than my allowance."

O-o-O-o-O

Several hours later found them making one last stop in the rapidly-gathering twilight: the wand shop. It was the place Dick had been looking forward to the entire trip.

"I feel it wise to warn you, Mr. Ollivander is rather…eccentric." Snape's dark eyes bored into Dick's blue ones. "He may address you by your birth name; he has an odd ability to be able to sense these things about people. Caution would be wise."

Dick nodded, feeling Wally fidget beside him.

"Good." He led the way into the shop.

Inside was even darker than the street. A man with white hair peered at them from behind the counter.

"Ah, Professor Snape. Ebony, twelve inches, with a dragon heartstring core, if I am not mistaken. Who might you be escorting today?"

"Two new Hogwarts students," Snape replied succinctly.

"Yes, yes, I had that figured out." He looked first at Wally, then at Dick. "Messrs. Weasley and Potter, if I am not mistaken?"

"What is with everyone and thinking I'm a Weasley?" Wally muttered, but not loud enough for anyone other than Dick to hear.

"I prefer Dick Grayson, Mr. Ollivander," Dick said, not addressing Wally's rhetoric question. "And Wally's not a Weasley, as far as anyone here knows."

"Very well, very well. Shall we start with you, Mr…?"

"West."

"Which is your wand hand?"

"I'm right-handed, sir."

A measuring tape flew over, measuring the length of his arm, and then some odder places. Once it had even measured his nostrils, Ollivander clapped his hands. "I do believe I've found one. Try this, beech and unicorn hair at ten and three-quarters inches. Just give it a wave."

Dick ducked as a box went flying off the shelf, and it clattered to the floor behind him.

"No, no, that is not the right one," Ollivander murmured, taking it back sharply. "Just a moment, if you will." He came back a minute later. "Try this, maple and phoenix feather, twelve inches." Wally had barely raised his arm before it was taken back. "Dear me, no!"

Dick snickered, and Wally shot him a dark look. "Just you wait," he muttered. "Betcha anything it takes you at least seven wands."

"Hmm, this is a bit unusual, but I think it might work. Willow, fourteen inches with a unicorn tail-hair for a core."

Wally's face took a look of wonder as he swished the wand. Blue and silver sparks flickered through the air, and Ollivander's face had a smile on it.

"Beautiful, beautiful. Nothing like a child receiving their first wand," he chuckled. "All right, Mr. Grayson, on to you. Which do you prefer?"

The tape measure fluttered around Dick until Ollivander approached again with a slim box. "Maple with unicorn hair, ten inches. Swish it a bit."

The wand shivered in his hand, and Dick set it back on the counter. "It shivered," he murmured.

"Indeed?" Ollivander looked interested. "Never before has a wand done that, I must say. Unicorn hair is not for you, then."

Back and forth he went, piling up the discarded wands. Wally muttered 'eight' and laughed.

"Well now, this is very unusual, but perhaps…" Ollivander walked to the counter, looking at the wand in his hand as if it had done him some wrong. "A very unusual combination of holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Give it a go, Mr. Grayson."

Hesitantly, Dick took a hold of the wand and gasped. It felt like warmth running up and down his arm, and at that moment he knew he must look like Wally did. He brought his arm down, a trail of red and silver swinging in its wake.

"Excellent, excellent!" Ollivander said excitedly. "Well done. Now, if that isn't curious…"

"What's curious?" Dick asked despite himself.

"Mr. Grayson, I remember every wand I've sold, and it just so happens that the feather in your wand came from a most unusual phoenix. It takes quite a bit of work to get a phoenix feather to begin with, and the one that gave the core for yours gave just one other feather. Yew, thirteen inches. A wand that belonged to the most evil wizard known today, and the wand that gave you that scar you currently hide upon your forehead."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Wayne Manor, Gotham City_

_July 31, 1991_

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Dick?" The man didn't look up from the documents he received from WayneTech's board, but Dick knew he was listening.

"Will I have to go around without the plaster?"

Bruce looked at his ward. "Dick," he said, blue eyes looking deeply into the boy he had adopted in all but name. "I don't want to make decisions for you. If you want to go around without it, I will gladly take it off and have the Professor see about your eyes as well. If not, then I will gladly leave it there and still have Severus talk to you about your eyes." He smirked. "Your choice."

"I think I'll leave it." Dick was quiet for a minute, then his eyes widened. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

* * *

><p><strong>The review replies I promised. I don't make a habit of it (I only do it in the chapter for anonymous ones as well if I ever do it), so if you have questions andor you want to discuss something, please leave an email address, your name, or just get an account (it's free)! I love to address reviews and thank as many people for them as I can.**

_Joey_: You're right, I probably should've put dates. I've put them in. As for the rest of your review, I won't answer too many of your questions since they will come up later, but on your last one, Wally got his superspeed from recreating his uncle's experiment. None of the Flashes, at least as far as I can find, are actually related by blood; Barry married into the family when he married Iris West, and Jay Garrick is the adopted "grandfather," so to speak. They're a family in the sense that they all take up the mantle Flash (and, as they say, family is the one you choose), but they are not blood relations. At least, as far as I know. I didn't ever read Jay Garrick comics, and it _could_ be different in the YJ universe, but I don't think it is.

_Alix_: I hope I answered your question above, but you do make really good points on why Hufflepuff should still be considered! If you still have questions or want to talk it out, leave an email or sign up for (it's free), because I'd love to talk back and forth if you still have questions!

**Also, throughout this story, don't forget about the Memory Spheres I mentioned earlier, way back in the prologue. Those will come back later to haunt us…I also forgot: in regards to the origin of the Memory Sphere, the first instance I found containing reference to it was in **_**True Confessions**_** by Bratling at Potions and Snitches. So, unless there's another author who created it, credit to the main idea goes there, but I've changed it a little to suit me.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks again for all the reviews, everybody! Not much to say other than I did the Dumbledore-Dursleys scene, which takes place at the end of July, then it skips to England's September 1 (it would still be August 31 in the US).**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

_July 31, 1991_

The night was still warm as Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his Muggle finest (a gaudy purple suit), stepped up to the door at Number Four, Privet Drive. He wasn't aware of the eyes of all the neighbors, or if he was, he didn't show it. Instead, he rang the doorbell, smiling pleasantly.

The man that came to the door was extremely large, both in girth and height. His mustache wobbled on his upper lip, and his face seemed to slowly turn to puce.

"What do you want?" he growled, barely leaving the door open a crack.

"Vernon Dursley? I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of-"

"_Get in here before the neighbors see you!_" With a speed that should have been impossible for someone so large, he flung open the door and all but yanked the venerable man inside.

Internally, Dumbledore frowned, but did not let it show. "As I was saying, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I wished to check up on young Harry."

Vernon's beady eyes narrowed in concentration. "Who? Oh, you mean the boy. He isn't here."

"Out with friends, you mean? When might he be back?"

Vernon scoffed. "I mean he isn't here. Haven't seen him since he got taken away, not six months after we took in that ungrateful brat. Couldn't be happier, to tell you the truth."

Something clenched tightly in Dumbledore's chest. "What do you mean, he isn't here? He should have been due to the blood wards that protect this place as long as he calls it home…"

"Well, he isn't here, is he? And we're better off for it, at that. Taking food straight out of our Dudders' mouth before he was taken."

"Who took him?"

Vernon scratched his head. "Don't rightly remember, actually."

Dumbledore wanted to ask more; wanted to know if the man could recall anything else, but everything the man said about Harry, about being better off without him…

Well, he'd just have to get some people on it, see if this 'person' meant Harry ill or harm, and if they even had a chance of finding him alive after nine years. The weight of the wizarding world rested on the boy's shoulders too much to not try.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_King's Cross, London_

_September 1, 1991_

"Boys got everything?" Barry asked as they stood at the brick wall by Platforms 9 and 10 at the train station. "Books, wands, robes, underwear…"

"Uncle Barry!" Wally moaned, burying his face in his hands. "Stop it! You're so embarrassing."

"That's the point, kid," Barry said, ruffling his nephew's hair. "So, you've got it all, right?"

"Yeah," Dick said, giving his best friend a consoling pat on the shoulder. "We're sure."

"Dick, hand over the bag in your back pocket," Bruce said, looking around the station. "I told you that you won't need weapons while you're there."

The black-haired boy sighed, handing over the small weapons' cache. "How'd he know?"

"Maybe because you tried sneaking everything from your belt to your short pants in, Short Pants?" Wally offered, all traces of his uncle's previous ministrations gone.

Dick punched his friend on the arm in retaliation as the clock rang quarter to eleven.

"Time to go," Bruce said. "No traces of anything, just need to watch for civilians."

"He's way too far into Bat-mode today," Dick whispered as they casually leaned against the wall like Snape had told them to.

"Ya think?" Wally muttered back, swinging the cart with his trunk on it around. "Wha-dude, look at that!"

The platform was relatively quiet, all things considered, but the train was what had caught Wally's eye. It had a large scarlet engine, steam rising from the front smokestack. The name, _Hogwarts Express_, was written across the side in swirling calligraphy, and the Hogwarts Crest was on the front and sides.

"Whoa," Dick breathed in agreement.

"You two just gonna gawk all day or what?" Barry asked. "There are people behind us, you know."

Dick recovered first, giving Wally a push in the small of his back. "Dude, you're holding up the brick wall," he muttered.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." The two boys managed to get the trunks up on the train with their mentors' help, and were waiting on the platform a few minutes later.

"Now, remember boys, you're at school. No heroics!" To Dick, Barry seemed entirely too chipper for this. "Brush your teeth, do your homework, change your underwear every day…"

"Uncle Barry!" Wally moaned, face as red as his hair, as Dick dissolved into laughter. "What are you, my mom?"

"Well, since she was the one who told me to remind you…" Barry jumped out of the way of Wally's lunge. "Too slow, kid!"

"Dick." The sound of Bruce's voice got his attention immediately. "Robin can't fly at Hogwarts, you know that, right?"

"I know, Bruce." Honestly. Dick would have thought that Bruce knew he knew that by now. They were on Lecture 1, number 578 (he'd counted), and Dick swore he knew it by heart.

"Just checking." Bruce smirked. "In that case, hand over the Bat communicator. And don't forget about your wrist computer. Electronics don't work at Hogwarts."

"All the more reason to see if I can get them to work," Dick muttered, but handed over the requested items. "Say, Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"I-" It was then Dick caught sight of the sea of redheads that flooded the station. "Whoa! Since when have there ever been so many redheads in one place?"

"Don't forget, your biological mother Lily was a redhead."

"What?"

The train whistled loudly, and Dick barely managed to wave to Bruce before he was dragged onto the train by an impatient Wally.

"Dude, come on before my uncle loses it and turns into my Aunt Iris," Wally said, dragging Dick to the compartment their trunks were in.

Dick looked out the window as they set off. The redheaded mother was waving and crying, and Dick managed a half-hearted wave at Bruce before they were out of sight.

Shutting the door behind him, he sat down across from Wally, who was glaring at the wall moodily. "Dude, what happened?"

"It's just…" Wally gave a frustrated groan. "My uncle can be so overbearing sometimes. And, well…"

"I know," Dick said, patting Wally's arm. "Your dad just doesn't know what he's missing."

They sat comfortably in the compartment, chatting lightly and watching the countryside flash by, when a bushy-haired girl opened the door.

"Hello," Dick said.

"Hello. Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

Wally shivered. "Toads. Almost worse than spiders."

"Says the kid who used to keep them as pets," Dick fired back. Turning to the girl, he said, "Sorry, we haven't, but we'll help look."

A round-faced boy came up to the girl, tapping her shoulder. "Thanks, Hermione, I found him." The boy glanced in their compartment, then looked away and nearly ran back down the train.

"He's a bit shy. My name's Hermione Granger." She came in and sat down next to Wally.

"Dick Grayson and Wally West, at your service," Dick said, giving her a nod.

"You're American, aren't you? What are you doing in Britain?"

"We were both born here, but were raised in America," Wally said, giving a quick glance at Dick. "To be honest, I thought this was the only wizarding school."

"Oh, no! Don't you ever read? There's a school of magic in almost every country!" This seemed to be the catalyst she needed, and she started talking about all the different schools there were, and Wally shot Dick a pained grimace.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Yes? Oh! That reminds me to ask: Are you the Dick Grayson who is Bruce Wayne's ward?"

Dick had barely stuttered out an affirmative when the conversation took an abrupt turn and she began spouting off facts about Bruce Wayne that she had read in this or that book until Wally turned to her.

"Don't you ever shut up?"

Her mouth snapped closed, and her eyes began to shine with tears. Without a word, she stood up and nearly ran from the compartment.

"Dude, that was not cool!" Dick said, glaring at his friend. "You don't make girls cry!"

"Well, she wouldn't shut up!"

"Still!" Dick hauled Wally out of the seat, marching him out of the compartment and down the packed hall. "Come on, we need to go find her."

"What? Why!"

"An apology, that's why."

They still hadn't found her the farther they went, and they were almost to the end of the train when they walked into three boys and Hermione. Two of them were big, reminded Dick of two of Joker's bigger henchmen. The blond was the one picking on a still-crying Hermione.

"Hey!" Dick said loudly, feeling unnaturally bold. "What are you doing?"

All three boys whipped around, the blond with a sneer, and the two gorilla-like boys with blank looks. "Stay out of our business. Just who do you think you are?"

"Dick Grayson and Wally West, here to kick your butts," Dick said.

"And save the girl," Wally added.

"Crabbe, Goyle," the blond ordered, and the gorillas moved to go after them.

Too late, Dick remembered his promise to Bruce, and shot a panicked look at Wally. The latter winked at him, turning his attention back to the brute. Dick stepped back a couple feet, watching Wally's fist curl around the door to the compartment next to him, and just as the one nearest him would've reached out a fist, Wally flung open the door, stepping inside and leaving a foot out to trip the other boy. He fell on his face, and Dick heard something crunch.

Getting the idea, Dick did the same with the compartment next to him, sending the other lackey to the ground.

Blondie looked panicked for a moment, before his face turned back into a sneer. "Grayson and West, eh? You haven't heard the last from Draco Malfoy, that's for sure. You've made some powerful enemies. Crabbe, Goyle, let's go."

Malfoy's wingmen picked themselves up. The one Wally tripped had blood running down his face, and Dick's had a bruise starting to form across a cheek. All three stalked back down the hall, pushing unsuspecting students out of the way.

"Thank you," Dick heard, and he turned to see Hermione looking sheepishly at them. "You didn't have to do that, especially since it might get you in trouble."

"Hermione, we were coming to find you anyway. Besides, what kind of heroes would we be if we didn't do _something_ heroic once in a while?" Dick grinned at her.

"Besides," Wally added. "It was kinda fun."

Hermione frowned, opening her mouth to no doubt tell Wally off, but Dick interrupted her. "Wally has something to say. Don't you, Wally?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry for snapping at you; it's just that, well, you're a bit of a show-off with your knowledge."

"What my speaking-challenged friend is _trying_ to say is that you don't have to show off to get someone to like you," Dick translated, shooting a wry look at his friend. "What do you say, friends?"

"All right." She took his hand, smiling shyly at him. Dick nudged Wally's ribs, and the redhead reluctantly held out his own hand.

"Come on, let's get changed before we get there and aren't ready."

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

_Hogsmeade Platform, Hogsmeade_

_September 1, 1991_

A voice overhead told them to leave their trunks on the train, and, one by one, Dick, Wally, and Hermione slipped through the doors and onto the crowded platform. Off to one side was a bobbing light, with a loud, gruff voice calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All righ' there?"

Dick, whose eyes were quickly used to the mild twilight, saw that the voice belonged to a giant man. He had black eyes and wild masses of hair, and other students that seemed to be about his age were crowded around the man.

"Got everybody, then? All righ', to the boats! No mor'n four to a boat!"

Dick and Wally managed to secure a boat together, but Hermione was separated and bundled into another boat with the round-faced boy, Neville, a sandy-haired boy, and a dark-skinned girl. In his and Wally's boat was a pair of dark-haired twins.

"I'm Padma Patil, and this is my sister Parvati," the one on Dick's left introduced.

"Dick Grayson and Wally West," Dick replied. "Pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well. You don't sound like you're from here."

"We're both from America, but we were born in Britain," Wally supplied, obviously not wanting to be left out.

"Ev'rybody in a boat? Righ', forward!"

Dick glanced over the side of the boat. The inky blackness of the water was made reflective by the light on the bows of the boats, and he could see himself, anticipation written all over his face.

"Duck yer heads, and you'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts jus' around the bend."

They ducked down under the hanging ivy curtain, and the boats rounded the bend to find a magnificent castle. It perched on top of a hill, the lights reflecting off the lake and making it glitter. The lights themselves seemed to flicker, as if made by actual candles and firelight.

"Dude, you think this outdoes the manor a bit?"

Dick could only nod at Wally's whisper as the boats bumped into the shoreline.

"Ev'rybody out, now. Stay together and follow me." The giant man led them up the grounds to the huge entrance doors, which swung open as if on their own, and into a huge entrance hall. Dick could see several peoples' mouths drop open and had a hard time not doing so himself. From what he remembered of the size, Haly's Circus could've set up all their tents and still had room for parking if they wanted to do a show here.

"The firs' years, Professor." The man stumped through the doors to the right into a grand hall. The other students from the train were all sitting at long tables, at least that Dick could see before the doors shut.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before that is the time-honored tradition of the Sorting. This Sorting will determine what house you are in, and this house will become your family for the school year. You will have classes with your housemates, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend a majority of your free time in your house common room.

"There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each has a noble history and each house has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you points, and rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the House Cup will be awarded to the house with the highest number of points, and it is a great honor to win it. I hope that each and every one of you will do your houses proud.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in just a few moments in front of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes seemed to drift across the crowd of first years, lingering slightly on Neville's poorly-done tie, and someone else's crooked cloak.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," McGonagall finished. She gave them all one last look before she too entered the hall.

Almost immediately whispers broke out. "I wonder how we get Sorted?" Dick murmured to Wally. Hermione, standing on Wally's other side, looked nervous as well.

"Anyone here know where Harry Potter is?" Draco Malfoy, the boy from the train, swaggered through the crowd. "Isn't he supposed to start this year?"

"Get off your high horse, Malfoy, he probably doesn't want to deal with the likes of you," Wally called back, laying a hand on Dick's arm. "I certainly wouldn't."

"West," the blond sneered, but no one else had a chance to say anything as someone pearly and translucent drifted through the wall.

Someone screamed, and Dick had a hard time believing what his eyes were telling him. Around twenty ghosts had come in, from the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. A fat little monk-like ghost was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say. We should give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves more than enough chances? He gives us ghosts a bad reputation, which isn't saying much as we already have one most days, but he isn't even – I say, what are you all doing here?"

No one answered the ghost in the ruff and tights.

"Oh, first years!" the Friar said, clapping his hands. "I do hope you end up in my old House – proud to be a Hufflepuff!"

"Move along now, the Sorting's about to begin." McGonagall had come back, and Dick let out a small sigh of relief. The ghosts drifted into the dining hall, and McGonagall said, "Everybody form a line and follow me to the Great Hall."

In a semblance of a line, they followed her into the Hall, where all eyes were upon them. Dick was somewhat used to this, as Bruce often garnered this look at his parties (and, being his ward, Dick was dragged along with him), but it still made him slightly uncomfortable. Wally seemed to be in awe of how much magic was going on, and Hermione had his left arm in a death grasp ahead of him.

They were led to the front of the hall, where a stool and a hat sat waiting. No one said or did anything for some minutes, until the hat's brim opened and began to sing.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see._

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart._

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil._

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've got a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind._

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The entire hall burst into applause at the conclusion of the song, and the Hat gave a bow to each of the tables before it sat still.

"All we have to do is try on the hat?" Hermione looked slightly less tense, and she let go of Dick's arm. "That sounds easy enough. A couple older students kept telling me I had to wrestle a troll."

Dick felt relief in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't noticed, but he had been slightly anxious as well. A man with a white beard sat in the center of the table, frowning as he scanned the line of first years. His eyes lingered on Dick, and he shivered; the blue eyes seemed to see right through you.

"When I call your name, you will come up to the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head, and when it calls out your house, you will go sit down." McGonagall unrolled a scroll. "Abbot, Hannah!"

Dick watched a blond, pink-faced girl stumble up and sit on the stool. Even with her pigtails, it fell down past her eyes. They waited a moment, before…

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table with yellow lining their robes clapped enthusiastically, and Hannah went to sit on the end. She was followed a moment later by Susan Bones, and Terry Boot became the first Ravenclaw. Mandy Brocklehurst followed him. Lavender Brown was the first new Gryffindor, while Millicent Bulstrode sat on the stool for almost a minute before the hat proclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Dick could feel the anxiety in his stomach as Justin Finch-Fletchley went to Hufflepuff. He would be soon; what if the Hat couldn't Sort him? He knew he'd be difficult – just from Robin's critique, he had been called all those qualities and more. Finally, it was Hermione's turn, and she nearly tripped on the way there before sitting. The Hat was silent for a few moments before calling, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Grayson, Richard!"

Scattered mumblings reached his ears; apparently, only a few people had heard of him, and that was the way Dick wanted it. His last view of the Hall had a view of Hermione crossing his fingers before all he saw was the inside of the Hat.

"_Well, well, Mr. Potter. Ah, yes, it's Grayson now, isn't it? Your mind is rather empty of memories of being Harry Potter, isn't it? No matter, we aren't Sorting you based on name!_

"_Your mind is quite difficult. Loyalty in spades, fairness, but you're not a Hufflepuff to say the least with your parents' deaths hanging about you. Ravenclaw yes, you have quite the mind. Bravery about, lad, what do you do in that crime-riddled city of yours? A nice thirst to prove yourself, oh my, this is difficult. Now, where to put you? Too bad your cunningness isn't much; the only time you've ever wanted something more than anything in the world was when your adoptive parents were killed, so Slytherin is a second runner. Any preferences?"_

"Somewhere Wally can come with me," Dick whispered, squeezing the stool tightly.

"_I suppose I'll meet him in a little bit? You shouldn't go to a house for your friends, but your loyalty to him is astounding. Too bad you're not Hufflepuff material; I suppose we'll have to go with _GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted to the hall, and the table with the red-lined robes exploded into cheers; when he took the Hat off, he could see a pair of redheads doing a jig, and Hermione was beaming. He gave Wally a thumbs up before heading to sit next to his bushy-haired friend.

The rest of the Sorting was going slowly. Neville Longbottom, with nerves written all over his face, was also Sorted into Gryffindor, along with Parvati Patil, until finally it was Wally's turn.

The Hat caught itself on Wally's ears, and Dick snickered along with some of the rest of the hall. Wally had barely been up there a minute when the Hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!" Dick clapped loudly, waving Wally over to the seat next to him. The redhead plopped down, his red face slowly draining of the color.

"Glad that's over," he whispered, putting a hand to his stomach when it growled loudly. "I'm starving!"

"When are you not?" Dick asked, glancing up to scan the table. The stool and Hat had been moved after Blaise Zabini had gone to Slytherin, and McGonagall took her place next to the white-haired man. Farther down the table he spotted Snape; the man gave him a cool nod, black eyes glittering, but the man next to him was what caught Dick's attention.

He wore a purple turban, of all things, and he seemed to be stuttering nervously. Dick jerked his head to the man in the center – the one with the long white hair and beard – as he loudly proclaimed, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" and food materialized on the table.

"He must be mad," Dick said, taking a little of everything as it was passed along.

"No worse than that clown," Wally mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Hermione glared at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with clowns," she snapped.

Dick rolled his eyes at the two of them. If they didn't eventually get together, he'd been imagining Ollie and Dinah's _lovers' spat._

* * *

><p><strong>geek179, I didn't forget our conversation from your review on chapter 2! Did you catch my hint about that particular bit of information?<strong>

**Don't be fooled by their easy start: Dick, Wally, and Hermione's friendship will not be this smooth.**

**For their houses, I ended up tallying all of the suggestions and taking the highest for each one (and I took **_**all**_** the suggestions, so if you made more than one for a character, that's why). The final results were (excluding Hufflepuff):**

**Dick: 3 for Ravenclaw, 4 for Slytherin, 6 for Gryffindor**

**Wally: 1 for Slytherin, 4 for Ravenclaw, 7 for Gryffindor**

**Funny how they landed with one between them? And I agree with a couple of you who think Gryffindor gets boring; just think, though, won't it be funny when Dumbledore realizes he's had his "golden boy" all along? *gets boos* Sorry, sorry. Let me know what you think of their placements, please?**


	5. Chapter 4

**Happy (belated) Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it! I apologize for the wait (I think I spent about a total five days typing this), but things have been picking up school-wise with play practice and just a lot of stuff.**

**Before we get started, I wanted to clear a couple things up for an anonymous reviewer (and those of you who might be lost as well):**

**Yes, I know Dick Grayson's birthday is in March. Harry Potter's, however, is in July, and when I mixed the characters together, the birthdate got switched. Call it what you will, he got Harry Potter's birthday, eyes, and sometimes he has his hair, but he has Dick Grayson's non-glasses (we'll say he wears contacts), Robin, Bruce, etc. The same for Wally. He has Ron's birthday (but that was luck of the draw when he got taken in) and (most of) his looks, but Wally's heart and soul. (I only say 'most of' because whenever I think about Wally and Dick in this story, they don't look like how I imagine Harry and Ron being).**

**Hope that helped some! One last note – the class schedules are going to seem weird. I'm sorry about that, but that's how it ended up. I got all the times nice and done (eight class hours in a day with a break in the morning and afternoons), then tried to do the classes. When I looked in the books…well, the classes don't meet every day, and sometimes there's double periods, and they don't have classes with the same house for everything (like they might have DADA with Slytherin, but they then have Charms with Hufflepuff, and then Transfiguration with Ravenclaw). So, I don't think I got everything done right (with regards to how many free periods they get, but those will be filled third year), but at least no one overlaps because I did all the schedules to make sure.**

**And I know, in the book they didn't have potions until Friday. Well, that left them with two periods of potions a week (since it was a double period), which didn't seem right. The only thing I could think was that it didn't start on Monday, but when I looked, September 1 was a Sunday, and September 2, when they would have started school, was a Monday. Anyway, just be aware that classes aren't like they are said to be in the books.**

**Now that you're probably sick of my rambling, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

_Hogwarts, Scotland_

_September 2, 1991_

Wally West had always heard the saying _'Let sleeping dogs lie.'_

To his knowledge, there has never been one about best friends.

So it was with great pleasure that, at 6:00 A.M. on September 2, he flung open the curtains surrounding Dick Grayson's bed to jump on him and give him an early wake-up call. There was just one problem.

There was no Dick Grayson in the bed.

Wally frowned. Sure, his friend was an early riser, even on the weekends, but never when he didn't have to get up before seven. Late-night Gotham crime runs had given his friend an appreciation for five hours a night, six if he could pull it off.

It was only with the cackle of his friend's laugh (and it was really creepy, Wally had to admit. Dick could give storybook witches a run for their money) that Wally remembered that one Dick Grayson had gone to bed at ten with the rest of them, and was probably wide awake at six in the morning. He made an executive decision and skidded out of the way using his speed, narrowly avoiding the water balloons Dick had left as a morning gift.

He forgot that the dark-haired boy's revenge was nothing if not thorough, and received a water balloon to the head, as did their other three roommates.

Coughing and spluttering filled the room, and the cries of four water-logged boys had the redheaded prefect from last night (a _real_ Weasley, if Wally remembered his name right) running in wearing his red and gold pajamas.

"_What_ is going on in here?" he asked, sounding slightly imperious in his tone. "It is six in the morning, I hope you realize, and on the first day of classes, too! Really, what-"

"Lighten up, Perce," another redhead said, coming up to stand next to the prefect. "The ickle Firsties are just having some fun."

"Yeah," his twin said, standing on the other side. "Whoever did this has got class – he got everyone, the room included!"

"Though this trick is a little tame, don't you think, Gred?"

"Why, so it is, Forge. We may have to show these impressionable young children just how to prank."

"You will do no such thing!" Prefect Weasley seemed to swell as he moved to hustle his brothers (for who else could they be, with all the red hair?) out of the room. "When Mum hears about this-"

"Did they just call this tame?" Dick asked, throwing a towel at Wally. "Seriously?"

"It's not exactly one of your best, you have to admit," Wally replied, scrubbing at the water in his pajama top. "We'll just have to show them what a _real_ prank is."

"Plan 187-A?"

"I was thinking Plan 208-C, actually, but yours might be good for an appetizer."

"Appetizer? That's a grade-A plan!"

The boys gathered their things for a shower, ignoring the incredulous looks Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, as they had introduced themselves last night to be, were giving them, and the slightly fearful ones Neville shot at them.

O-o-O-o-O

Breakfast was a rowdy affair that started at 7:30 and ran until nine. It was early, but already it seemed that most of the student body had arrived. Students talked loudly, comparing schedules the teachers were trying to hand out. Wally gaped in amazement.

"Dude, food!"

"Is that all you ever think about?" a voice behind them asked. Wally glanced over his shoulder to see Hermione standing there. "Honestly."

"Well, I have a…high metabolism," he said, hesitating only slightly before coming up with the phrase he wanted.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hmmm," was all she said before stalking off to the end of the table. Dick started after her, but Wally grabbed his robe sleeve and pulled him to sit closer to the twins.

They glanced up as the two first years sat down a few seats away. "Say, Fred, aren't those some of the ickle Firsties who were causing a disruption this morning?" one asked.

"I do believe they are, George, I do believe they are," his twin replied, and as Wally loaded his plate with eggs, he could see them scrutinizing the duo.

"Can we help you?" Dick asked, feigning disinterest as he bit into a piece of bacon. Wally could just see a grin on his friend's face, hidden from the two redheads since his head was turned to one side.

"No, no," one (Wally thought it was Fred, but he wasn't sure) said, waving a hand airily. "Just a thing of curiosity, you know. Nothing to be helped."

"Can't say I have any business, really," the other, George, said, buttering a piece of toast without a care in the world. "Well, perhaps an explanation of what you used to hold the water?"

Dick's face conveyed a raised eyebrow at Wally in hidden confusion, which he himself didn't bother to hide. "I'm sorry?"

The twins abandoned their pretenses at nonchalance. "What was that that had the water in it? It looked like those bloono-thingies our dad has, but, well, we're not sure."

"Yeah, it was a water balloon," Wally supplied. "You've never heard of them?"

George shook his head. "Nope. We don't really have much experience with all things Muggle, if you know what I mean."

"I have an idea," Dick murmured. "And how dare you call my morning prank tame?"

"It was simply that. Really, water being poured onto someone? Not exactly the worst you could do, especially on the first day."

"Our big prank isn't until the end, of course, but still-"

"One must have standards when starting pranks. And our rule is…"

"No easy pranks on someone we've already pranked!" they finished together.

"And it seems you've already pranked your companion many times, judging from his reaction," Fred added.

Wally was about to reply when a flurry of wings invaded their conversation.

Hundreds, no, _thousands_ of owls flooded the Great Hall, the noise from the students dampened by their hooting and the sound of wingbeats. Wally glanced across the hall, eyes landing on Malfoy and what looked like a hawk – he was waving around a box, so Wally assumed that he had gotten candy.

He and Dick were surprised when an owl landed between them, two letters and a package tied to it. Dick pulled off the string holding the letters while Wally untied the box. One of the letters was handed to him, and he scanned it, a small smile worming its way across his face.

_Dear Wally,_

_Your uncle and I thought you might be a little homesick (yes, you've only been gone a day, but you're on the other side of the world!), so we've sent you a little care package. None of those chemistry things you're so enamored with – heaven only knows we need another 'accident' like the one you copied from Flash's accident! – but some cookies and things._

_The house is lonely without you, but for once it's peaceful! No explosions, just quiet. Be sure to write back, and don't hog all the sweets, they're for you AND Dick!_

_Love, Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry_

On the bottom was another scribbled note, this one in his uncle's writing.

_Hey, sport, I know your aunt said we didn't send any of this stuff, but when I was taking it to Bruce, I snuck a few minor chemicals in. Don't tell Iris – what she doesn't know won't hurt her, but if she knows, she might hurt me! –Uncle Barry_

Wally laughed, setting the letter aside and tearing open the brown wrapping. True to form, his Aunt Iris had sent at least three dozen cookies of varying kinds, a few cupcakes, and a pie. Iris West-Allen had an affinity for baking, and it showed whenever she packed something for her super-speeded nephew or husband. Also tucked into a corner were a few of Wally's chemicals. Nothing on its own was remarkable, but when mixed…

Well, there'd be a few new explosions around the castle.

Dick looked a little more serious after reading his own letter from Bruce, but he looked eagerly at the box. "You're sharing, right?" he asked, looking over the selection.

Instead of answering, Wally pushed the box closer. "If I don't, I'd be going against Aunt Iris, and I really don't want to find out if she can make it here," he added, hoping that he really was only joking. Dick snorted, taking one of the peanut butter cookies and closing his eyes.

"I love your aunt's cooking," he said around the mouthful. "Only Alfred's cooking is better than hers."

Wally smiled, already finished with his second cookie. "So what'd Bruce want?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he shoved the chemicals into his bag.

Dick swallowed, looking a little lost. "Joker's out again," he murmured, trying to stay quiet. "I should be there."

"Dude, you'd have to be there, like, right _now_ in order to help, 'cause they're hours behind us. I don't think the professors are going to let you get away with skipping classes in the first year, let alone the first week."

Dick glanced just beyond him, and Wally looked to see the twins had been accosted by a couple of their friends, and, when Wally checked, no one was close to them. Dick continued, "I know. But still, he shouldn't have to deal with all that on his own. I could be helping-"

"By being bait?" Wally asked dryly. "Dick, Batman protected the city for six years without you, and does it at least once a week when you're stuck doing homework. He'll be fine."

Dick still looked a little worried, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall with their schedules. Once she had moved on to the next knot of students, the boys put their heads together.

"This…looks really weird," Wally said finally. "Two classes before a break, two classes after that, lunch, two more classes, break, and the last two classes with half an hour before dinner."

"And we don't even have all the classes every day," Dick said, pointing. "Look, Charms, Transfiguration, then double Herbology, two free periods, and Defense Against the Dark Arts today, then tomorrow starts with a free period, History of Magic, two free periods, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration."

"Then we don't have Herbology again until Wednesday, Astronomy during the last period with a practical at midnight…is this seriously the schedule?"

Dick shook his head. "If it isn't, we're in deep trouble then. But we get ten minutes between classes, so at least we have time to get lost and then find the class before we're late."

"Do we get a map?" Wally asked, only slightly joking.

"Charms is on the fourth floor, it says so right here," Dick mused. "We have ten minutes as it is, so we should probably run back to the dorm, get our books, and head for the fourth floor."

"Oh, and if we get lost, we can ask the portraits for help, right?" Wally asked sarcastically, closing the box from his aunt. It had been a shock for him, since he still wasn't quite sure magic existed, to find that the portraits could talk to them.

"But of course, my skeptical sidekick," Dick said, smirking and dodging Wally's wild swing. He laughed, racing for the stairs.

O-o-O-o-O

For two superheroes, one who could boast he survived the streets of Gotham for almost three years, the other with superspeed, they sure couldn't follow directions very well. Dick reflected on this as they burst into the Charms classroom, late. Granted, it was only a minute, when Dick checked his watch, but they were still _late_.

"Ah, yes, good morning, gentlemen!" the teacher, a tiny man who stood on at least three books to see over his desk, squeaked. "Since it's your first day, a little tardiness will not affect you or your house; just don't make a habit of it."

From her seat near the front, Hermione glared at them. There was an open spot next to her, and one next to Neville. Dick slid in gratefully next to the other boy, leaving Wally to sit next to their bushy-haired friend.

"Hey, Neville," Dick said, barely panting from running. Bruce's endurance training was paying off. "What have we missed?"

"Nothing yet," he whispered back, looking at the table top. "Professor Flitwick's just going over the syllabus. He hasn't even taken roll yet."

Dick glanced at Hermione and Wally, who were having an argument in whispers, before looking at Flitwick. "He's kinda short, isn't he?"

"I've heard from my Gran that he's part goblin," Neville said, looking up for the first time since Dick and Wally came in.

"Well, sorry that we got lost!" Wally whispered harshly to Hermione, drawing Dick's attention to them. "We're not superhuman!"

Dick suppressed a snort. _He_ might not be superhuman, but Wally was. He missed Hermione's reply, but Wally gave a sharp retort of, "Of _course!_ Why didn't we think of that? Oh, that's right, because we left ten minutes early so we wouldn't be late!"

Neville looked at Dick, slightly fearful. "Are they OK?" he asked.

He patted the round-faced boy on the back. "I highly doubt it. I will be very surprised if they don't at least date later in life."

O-o-O-o-O

The first Potions class of the year was on Tuesday, right after the class with Quirrell and the Slytherins. Wally grimaced as he saw they would be sharing the class with Slytherin, again.

"Tuesdays are going to be so cheerful," he murmured to Dick. "We get to have two classes back-to-back with Malfoy."

"That happened yesterday, too," Dick pointed out, threading his way between the crowds of students to the stairs to the dungeons.

"Well, that was a double period, that doesn't count."

"Since when doesn't it count?" Dick stopped to look at his friend, amazement apparent on his face.

"Since I said so."

"Whatever," Dick muttered, turning around. "Come on, we're going to be late."

As it turned out, they weren't late, but they were just barely there.

"Messrs. Grayson and West, how kind of you to join us so promptly," Snape sneered, but as far as Wally could tell, he didn't sound too angry.

"Sorry, Professor, we got slightly caught up. It won't happen again." The tone of Dick's voice, polite when he didn't seem to mean it, showed that he was in 'Alfred's Manor-Party Etiquette' mode, as Wally liked to call it.

"See that it doesn't," Snape said, turning to stalk to the front of the classroom. Dick closed the door behind them, and they took the last open desk.

"Put your wands away and listen. You are here to learn the subtle and exact art of potion-making," Snape began softly. He didn't need to be loud to keep the class in line – the older students had warned all of them about how Snape was. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, most of you will no doubt think this is not magic. I do not expect you to understand the beauty of a simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids running through human veins that bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can teach every single one of you to brew fame, bottle glory, and stopper death…that is, if you are truly interested, and not one of the mindless I usually teach."

No one in the room dared to talk, and Wally himself hardly dared to breathe. This was the man who had come to them, him and Dick, to give them a chance to come here, and he had made a joke of it. This was a class he could excel in, he knew. It was science. Of course, it helped that he had used the ability to speed-read his Potions textbook during their fourth-period free time, and despite him not retaining much of after a few hours, he could still remember quite a bit of it.

"Mr. West," Snape's silky voice said, drawing him from his internal debate. "Perhaps, as you have seen fit to daydream through roll, you can answer a few questions. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand jerked into the air, and he felt a stirring of resentment. He knew the answer, knew it had been on the very first page. What had it been called, though?

"Um…if I remember correctly, sir," he said, stalling slightly for time, "isn't it, um, the Draught of Living Death, a sleeping potion?"

"A question or an answer, Mr. West?"

Wally swallowed. "Answer, sir," he said. What was the worst that could happen if he got it wrong?

"If you are paying attention, you will find that Mr. West is correct. The Draught of Living Death is a very powerful sleeping draught that mimics the look of death. Why are none of you copying that down?"

Wally let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Dick shot him a quick grin, and he gave a half-smile in return.

The rest of the class went all right, in Wally's opinion. Snape hadn't asked anymore questions, to Hermione's obvious disappointment. He had put the instructions to what he called a simple potion on the board and told them to get to work. He and Dick had just taken their potion off the flame and were about to add the porcupine quills when an odd hissing filled the air. He and Dick shared a quick glance before diving under the table. Both had been in near-misses to explosions to not take precautions.

It turned out for the best. When Wally poked his head back out, it was to a scene of destruction. Neville, his partner Seamus, and the two goons of Malfoy's were clutching their face, boils erupting from any spot the exploded potion touched.

"You idiot boy!" Snape snapped, stalking over. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking it off the flame, didn't you? Hospital wing, all four of you, and twenty points from Gryffindor for your foolishness, Longbottom. Granger, you go with them to the hospital wing. Grayson, West, since you two obviously ducked to avoid the explosion, you will stay after to clean it up. The rest of you, finish whatever step you are on, put your potions in your _labeled_ vials, and leave."

"That's so unfair!" Wally muttered, adding the porcupine quills to their rapidly-cooling potion. "Why do we have to clean up the mess?"

"One, because we ducked and didn't tell anyone else," Dick said dryly, ladling the potion into their vials. "Two, because you have superspeed and can have this cleaned up in about five seconds. Three, probably because Snape wants to talk to us without anyone overhearing. Four-"

"OK, I get it!" Wally interrupted, cleaning up the cauldron.

The boys took their potions up, the last to do so. Everyone else had done it quickly and left, obviously not willing to stay long. Snape waited until the last of the first years had left before using his wand to send a mop and bucket towards the mess. "I apologize for my harshness, but I am in need of speaking with you privately, Mr. Grayson. Mr. West, would you care to do the honors?"

Wally looked at his robes, then up at the professor. "Um, just how am I supposed to run in these? They don't move very well."

"There is an obvious solution, West," Snape said. "Take it off."

"Take it…OH!" Cursing himself for being so dumb, he pulled the robes up, leaving him in his shoes, pants, shirt, and tie. He had the mess cleaned up in about five seconds, coming to a halt next to his best friend.

"The real reason I asked you to stay after is because your guardian told me the glamour on your eyes is fading," Snape said. "The spell itself, one of my own creations, is designed to last a year, using the person with the glamour's ambient magical signature."

"Their what?" Dick asked.

"Ambient magical signature," Snape explained, pointing his wand at Dick's eyes. Wally tensed, but all Snape did was murmur a quiet spell. "Magical beings exude magic; part of it is the accidental magic used as a child, part of it is used if a wizard or witch is strong enough to use wandless magic. Magical creatures use it to adapt quickly to their environment, and it is why they are magical. The spell I used to hide your eyes feeds on that energy, thus not draining the caster. Most glamours fade after a week, but this one does not." Snape seemed to pause for a moment, before asking quietly, "Would you like to see your natural eye color?"

Wally watched his friend hesitate, before saying, "Yes."

Snape conjured a mirror, and Dick looked. Wally heard his friend gasp, and he turned to see what had startled him.

Dick's eyes were an astonishingly green color, a vividness to them that he seemed to share when his eyes were blue. They seemed almost luminescent, and Wally felt slightly jealous.

"Hey, you're stealing my eye color!" he joked, and Dick let out a weak laugh. Snape didn't seem amused.

"Your mother's eyes were exactly like that," he said, and Dick visibly perked at the mention of Lily.

Snape seemed lost in memory, but shook himself out of it a moment later. He reapplied the charm, and gave them a stern look. "I would suggest you take advantage of your break and take a moment outside before your next class. Many have found themselves wanting fresh air after dealing with the, how do they put it? The 'dungeons bat,' I believe I am called."

Dick grabbed Wally's arm, and they gathered their materials before heading out the door. They had already been late to Flitwick's class once that week; they didn't want to press their luck a second time.

* * *

><p><strong>Last thing you probably want is a huge block of bold at the end as well as the beginning, but I think I need to explain something about Snape's character.<strong>

**Dick and Snape will have a much different relationship than Harry and Snape did. A lot of this stems from how Snape views each character. For example, he sees Harry as a spoiled, arrogant child, a copy of his father with his mother's eyes. He doesn't know the whole story, nor does he take the time to get to know Harry.**

**In this story, however, I am going with some of the background I have already set up: namely, Snape rescuing Harry from the Dursley's when he was young and how he was raised. Snape knows that Harry, aka Dick, was raised a circus brat in this story, and though he knows fame (and might have enjoyed it as a child; he'd almost have to, to work in a circus) he doesn't let it go to his head. Snape left Dick/Harry to be raised by a relative of Snape's, and then, when John and Mary Grayson were killed, to be raised by Bruce. Bruce helped instill some measure of humility in Dick when he became Robin.**

**Snape is already showing that difference in this chapter, and back earlier when they went to Diagon Alley. He already knows the difference between what is and what could have been in this story. It may seem like he is OOC, but different events have happened, and it shows. Not every character will be in tune with their book counterparts, no matter how much canon-ness I add into this story.**

**The difference will be down to how much of Dick/Harry's life he knows, and their relationship will be all the different. Snape will be more of a stand-offish mentor to Dick, and, more minorly, to Wally.**

**All right, and just one last thing: I have decided that there will be at least five more stories (as so far, that's all I've gotten started to planning), so I'll let you know what you should be looking out for!**

**I hope you guys enjoyed, and I'd love some feedback if you have any!**


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